MIDNIGHT MAN
Another sleepless midnight,
My lamp burns inside the window
Like a prophetic sign.
While inside I crouch in silent prayer,
Some other whispered agony,
A strange and tortured hymn.
Midnight man
Under the moon of a God who knows his secrets.
Of hearts that skip beats
Lungs that can’t breathe.
Anonymous anxiety that drains away the lifeblood
Burns in me tonight.
The owls in the trees know my secrets and my lies.
They know the smell of coffee burning on a hot plate
In some ascetic’s room
Who writes the night of his life away
‘til the brooding spirit lifts.
There cannot be anywhere
Another man with this lonely perseverance.
-Bruce Potts
Copyright 1983
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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